Posh at 50: Former Spice Girl Victoria Beckham goes from naff to national treasure

On Wednesday, Victoria Caroline Beckham turned 50.

The prospect doesn’t faze her — at least not from a superficial point of view.

“Honestly,” she told me last autumn, “I’m not obsessed with looking young.”

Several years earlier, when she was launching Victoria Beckham Beauty, she said: “I think it looks a bit silly when you can’t move your face… I’m really not bothered about my wrinkles.’’

Like many of us, what VB says doesn’t entirely correlate with what she does. The clue’s in her multi-hyphenate job title: fashion-designer-beauty-mogul-celebrity-singer. That’s a lot of focus on external appearance.

Back in 1994, the Spice Girls didn’t exactly augur longevity. Of all five Spices, Victoria Adams was arguably the least obviously talented. She’d put in the work, first at the Jason Theatre School and then at Laine Theatre Arts School in Surrey. But her voice was the most tentative in the group. Yet her grip on fame has hardly wavered in the past three decades and possesses a work drive that puts the average Kumon student to shame.

While her fellow bandmates largely owe their appeal today to nostalgia, she remains a contemporary figure, thanks to that multi-hyphenate career — witness the capsule collection she’s about to launch for high street chain Mango. Her beauty brand has garnered her new generations of fans who are barely aware of the typhoon that was the Wannabe era.

Much of this requires a single-focus dedication to being famous. From the early days, the Beckhams were notorious on what was then Fleet Street for tipping off the paparazzi about their whereabouts and they’ve never been reticent about including their children in their many publicity ventures. But if fame’s your goal, then 10 out of 10.

While David Beckham’s had some major stumbles — the World Cup send-off in 1998, his alleged desperation for a knighthood and involvement with Qatar among them — what’s the worst anyone’s ever said about her?

That she doesn’t smile? Doesn’t read books? Her brand doesn’t make money? That her “Pob” (Posh bob) was naff? All relatively soft punches in today’s internet bullring.

For someone who doesn’t read books (unless you count Vogue), she deftly navigates the cultural tides, from girl power to trans power and culture wars. She came to fame in a pre-smartphones, pre-internet era, but has taken Instagram (33 million followers and counting) in her stride, semi-poking fun at her own narcissism but also, increasingly, dispensing make-up tips, albeit as a means to shill her own brand.

She’s been ridiculed but never cancelled; “woman’d” (the new term for when a woman gets perpetually roasted by other women a la Keira Knightley circa 2006 or Anne Hathaway from 2010) but never sidelined.

On most counts, she’s handling the public ageing process with more balance and grace than Madonna.

Then again, Madonna has always been an outlier, leading the fight against ageism.

Beckham, 15 years younger, has the privilege of hitching a smoother ride behind her and looking relatively moderate in the process while championing mini skirts into her sixth decade.

When Beckham wore a slip dress with barely any visible support in her mother-of-the-groom outfit to her son Brooklyn’s wedding in 2022, rather than a disapproving chorus, most commentators wanted to know where it was from. Her own label, obvs.

Not that any of the issues around ageing have been settled. Women are still damned if they do “too much” to preserve their looks as much as if they don’t.

No one agrees on where the line is because it’s so subjective. In 2022, at the height of fashion’s new — and as it turned out, the fleeting embrace of body diversity — Beckham told The Telegraph that “wanting to be really thin was an old-fashioned attitude.

I think women today want to look healthy and curvy. As a mother, I loved the fact that Harper [her then eleven-year-old daughter] was around women who were really celebrating their curves and enjoying how they look.”

Beckham herself remains rail thin. Some mindsets are hard to shed when it comes to applying them to yourself. In the 1990s she would have been made acutely aware of her size.

Many of the world’s most famous luxury designer brands wouldn’t lend the Spices clothes because they weren’t considered cool (these days there are almost no celebrity brands that won’t dress). Already slim, but not “fashion thin”, she lost a dramatic amount of weight between 1998 and 1999. She claimed never to exercise, but she trained as a dancer. Maybe it was just a good line that enabled her to make a joke about hating anything that didn’t allow her to wear heels.

Four years ago she told The Telegraph that while she used to be wary of lifting weights (perhaps she worried they’d bulk her up), she understands their importance for strengthening bones.

Now she works out every day.

“I see it like brushing your teeth, it’s just something you do. I normally do an uphill walk on the treadmill, followed by a Tracy Anderson routine.”

She eats ant portions — like Anna Wintour — but of healthy food. “I eat a lot of healthy fats, including avocados and salmon – they’re good for the skin,” she says. “I also love making nut and seed snacks with the kids.”

She’s coy on the subject of cosmetic work, preferring to focus on her double cleansing routine, love of a jade face roller, apple cider vinegar and two cups of black coffee…

It’s almost relatable. As is her upwardly mobile style trajectory. There were the larky years, when she and David dressed in identical black leather onesies, wore matching purple to their wedding and sat on gilt thrones; the epic Wag years of miniscule minis, enormous platforms and sunglasses and whatever status bag had been featured in Vogue that month.

The “more money than any kind of sense” years rapidly followed, featuring that Pob, with matching fuchsia Birkins and Roland Mouret Galaxy dresses.

Posh was having fun.

Then wham, in 2008 she launched her fashion line, personally presenting to small clusters of sceptical fashion editors in New York. The fake boobs and fuchsia had to go (the one time she has openly discussed cosmetic tweakments is when she admitted to having her breast implants removed).

Enter the Back to Brunette years. In came smoky Peter Lindbergh eyes and an ever sharper awareness of the aesthetics “Fashion People”, as opposed to celebrities, admired. She’s never prickly when reminded of previous fashion demeanours. “I’m not so sure about those PVC catsuits,” she told The Telegraph in 2017. “It was good at the time and it’s made me who I am. But I’m much more secure in myself now, at my age, where I am, with my family and my career, and I think you can see that in the way I dress.”

As for her fashion line, which the schadenfreude brigade love to frame as a massive drain on David’s finances (ignoring the fact she’s probably able to fund any losses herself together with external backers), it’s still going after 16 years, which is more than can be said for Lily Allen’s collaboration with New Look, Rihanna’s with LVMH, J Lo’s…

The list goes on. Making money out of fashion isn’t easy.

Just how much money VB makes is a moot point.

Last autumn, the brand declared it was in profit for the first time. Some dispute this. Figures can be deceptive. Be that as it may, she’s on the catwalk schedule in Paris, the fashion show capital of the world, and senior press attend, including Wintour.

Having faced down almost universal scepticism at the start of her fashion career, she’s a testament to the efficacy of working hard and remaining approachable.

There’s a serious buzz around her VB beauty line, with one of her cult kajal pencils sold every 30 seconds — unlike the tumbleweed fluttering around J Lo’s beauty products, which a Reddit user reported last year were literally gathering dust in Sephora.

The way she’s navigated her fame beyond its expected sell-by date and used it as a springboard into other careers is another reason she resonates — it’s the triumph of the strive.

The closeness of the Beckhams with their four children — and reported feuds with their eldest son Brooklyn and his wife Nicola Peltz Beckham — are another source of fascination.

Brooklyn’s parents seem to be handling alleged tensions with their customary tactics — namely keeping calm, at least on the surface, and carrying on posing for the cameras.

This brings us to last year’s hit Netflix “documentary”/hagiography which nicely played up his ribbing of her, and her deadpan retaliations and probably did more to reposition VB in the nation’s affections than anything else she has done.

Give it another 50 years and she’ll be a national treasure.